Lost in a World of Dreams
by nanase-momotarou
Summary: Arthur finds himself trapped in a dream world with no ability to tell the difference between his dreams and reality. During this time so of his deepest and darkest fears and brought to the surface leaving him in a helpless state of depression and shock. Francis has to find his way into Arthur's dream world and find him before it is too late for those around him and for Arthur.
1. Terror Breaks a Family

**So this is just another idea I had a while back that I finally started writing. This is more of a prologue tbh, just so you understand what's happening when the story actually starts up. Also if the topic of rape makes you uncomfortable then you shouldn't read this since that's kind of what this chapter is based around. It's not graphic but it's heavily implied.**

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><p><strong>Character Guide<strong>

**Arthur - England**

**Francis - France**

**Alfred - America**

**Matthew - Canada**

**Ruby - Wy**

**Jaune - Hutt River**

**Jett - Australia**

**Christen - New Zealand**

**Victoria - Seychelles**

**Dylan - Wales**

**Patrick - Ireland**

**Alistair - Scotland**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC's.<strong>

**Chapter 1: Terror Breaks a Family**

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><p>Screaming was a sound Arthur had grown accustomed to over the course of the years, trying to raise his night terror stricken son who would wake up violently, screaming, kicking, and begging for help. Naturally in most cases there was hardly a single thing he could do but provide comfort until he calmed down or fell back to sleep. Arthur always felt a twinge of guilt when he had to leave Alfred to his own head again and go back to the comfort of his own bed and a gentle comforter who whispered kind words in his ears, telling him that it wasn't his fault and there was nothing he could do. On those nights he was never able to fall asleep, waiting for Alfred's screaming that would never come for the rest of the night, but there was nothing he could do but worry.<p>

When the screaming was heard he tried to ignore it but it sounded so much different than his usual screams, there was more terror in it. He couldn't describe it but he was almost certain something wrong. He arose from his bed as he always did, promising Francis to return, but tonight would be a different night, and neither he nor his husband were aware of it. He entered the bedroom of Alfred and Matthew and knew right away something was wrong. The window was wide open and Matthew was missing from sight. Alfred was curled up in a corner, covered by a blanket and sobbing hysterically. Panic rushed through his veins and he starting shooting questions at his oldest son but to no avail. Alfred was in a blind panic and would be of no help to him.

Arthur heard a thud from down the hall and hesitantly left Alfred's side to go find out what it was. Down the hall were two figures, one Arthur recognized as his son and the other was completely unknown to him and it took him a moment to realize what was going on. His dearest son was down on his knees in front of the man, clearly struggling but was being held against the wall. Rage flooded through his veins and his parental instinct told him that he needed to stop this immediately.

He was down the hallway in a flash and shoved the man away from his child, whom then started hacking up a goddamn lung. Arthur grabbed Matthew's arm and pulled him up. "Go back to your room and lock the door." He hissed into his ear before giving Matthew a light shove in the other direction. Matthew stumbled for a moment but regained balance and did as he was told. Arthur felt a hand wrap around his wrist and yank him into the closet.

The closet was pitch black and all he could hear was the heavy breathing on the man above him. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was his pants being pulled off.

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><p>When he woke the next morning Francis wasn't in bed and he could hear the distinctive Irish accent of his older brother and felt a wave of confusion wash over him, until the memories of last night hit him like a truck. He almost vomited and worried about his childrens safety. He attempted to sit up back a sharp wave of pain shot up his back when he tried to move so he remained as he was, choking back oncoming tears.<p>

The door quietly opened. "Artie?" Alistair's voice traveled into the room. The dam broke and the tears came flooding out. He heard Alistair come over. He began a spitfire of questions in Gaelic, half of which Arthur couldn't understand but he still accepted the comfort that his older brother was providing, even if it just be for a little while. "Francis called Patrick last night, we caught him." Arthur remained silent. He didn't want to hear the gruesome details of what happened the night before, he didn't want to know what that man did to him or his children for that matter.

"How is he?" Dylan slipped his way into the room and took a seat next Alistair, eyes falling upon Arthur who was laying against his brother's chest. Alistair ran his fingers through the younger man's hair and started to quietly humming one of Arthur's favourite Scottish lullabies. He wasn't sure when it happened exactly but he fell asleep in his brother's arms.

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><p>When the morning came again Arthur was asleep in his bed with Francis in the bed with him. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was close to five in the morning, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to get to sleep again. He removed his covers and silently made his way out of his room and down the hallway. He stopped in front of the red door of the shared room of Alfred and Matthew and took a deep breath. He turned the knob and let the door open. The window was shut and both boys were in their beds, fast asleep. Arthur let out a relieved sigh and closed the door.<p>

"Arthur?" Francis was standing in the hallway. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Francis smiled. "Come on back to bed, love." Arthur hesitantly took a step forward before slipping on the tile. Just as he thought he would tumble to the ground a pair of arms grab him and pulled him to his chest. "Are you alright?" Francis sounded extremely concerned, almost too concerned considering it wouldn't of been that bad of a fall, but Arthur couldn't blame him for worrying, especially after what happened only a day or two earlier.

"Fine." He mumbled gripping the front of his husband's shirt tightly. Francis lightly ran his fingers through his messy hair and smothered the top of his head with light, loving kisses. He was whispering under his breath in French and Arthur couldn't understand half of it despite his fluency in French. Arthur pulled away and looked Francis in the eye before the Frenchman pulled him into a deep affectionate kiss, leaving Arthur to realize all the pain Francis had been put through by that one simple action. Francis was worried sick, and there was nothing he could do about it.

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><p>Jaune was the first to wake that morning and join his two parents for breakfast. He seemed slightly shocked to his mother sitting there but seemed overjoyed none the less. They sat in a comfortable silence as they waited for the rest of the family to come stumbling down the stairs for breakfast. Francis and Arthur had made eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and waffles. Soon the smell of the food brought Jett down the stairs who was in a sleepy daze. Christen and Ruby came next. Last came Alfred, Matthew, and Victoria. Conversation sparked up halfway through the meal. Christen was, naturally, overly sarcastic and irritated Victoria and Jett to no end, which left Francis to try, emphasis on <em>try<em>, to break up the oncoming fight. He, as always, was unable to stop the impending fight from happening.

Screaming broke out across the table. Half of it from his children and half from his husband trying to get the kids to stop. Arthur felt something similar to panic form in his chest. He shot out of his chair and down the hallway. The bathroom door slammed shut behind him and he shakily sunk to the floor. He felt like he was going to vomit, his heart was pounding, and he couldn't breath. _Oh God, I'm going to die. _He could hear Francis banging on the door trying to coax him out of the bathroom.

He wasn't sure how long he was in the bathroom before his older brother started slamming against the door, screaming for him to get the fuck out. "I'll break down the fucking door, Arthur!" Patrick sounded angry, but Arthur couldn't begin to fathom why. Instead of 'breaking the fucking door down' the doorknob was simply broken and Patrick came into the bathroom with a look of rage on his face but it quickly faded when he saw his youngest brother's face. He was in hysterics and cowering in the corner of the bathroom. "Arthur?" Patrick kneeled down in front of him with the softest smile on his face as he lightly ran his fingers through the Brit's hair. "It's alright, you're fine now."

"Patrick?" Arthur asked, shakily reaching out for the older man. Patrick lightly wrapped his arms around the younger male and held him to his chest.

"You're alright now, Artie, I've gotcha." Patrick ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his back, quietly whispering words of comfort into the Englishman's ears. After an hour of Patrick's gentle words and actions Arthur fell asleep right there in his brother's arms, something he hadn't done in a long while.

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><p>Tension had started growing in the family and fights were becoming regular, and while no vocalized it Arthur knew it was because of him. He'd been stressing his family out and they didn't know how to deal with it, but at night Francis would always assure him that it wasn't his fault and he had nothing to worry about. Arthur didn't believe but knew it was for the best to humour him instead of voice his thoughts. As a therapist, Arthur acknowledged that his actions weren't going to help his mental health but he knew it would help with the family, and that's all that mattered to him. Without his husband and kids he'd be nowhere.<p>

That night when he went to his bedroom he noticed that Francis wasn't there and something sparked inside of him. Something like the panic he felt before but not nearly as strong. He needed Francis. And before now he hadn't noticed that strong, undying need, but now that he was gone something inside of him collapsed and felt the need to sob. But he didn't. He kept his head high and made his rounds, saying goodnight to the children and making sure they were comfortable. It wasn't until he went into Matthew and Alfred's room that he noticed something was off.

The twins were sitting against the back wall with Matthew laying his head on Alfred's shoulder. They were whispering in French, eyes blank, and voices mostly monotone. Alfred's eyes locked with his before they fell back to the floor. "I'm sorry." He wasn't sure which one of the boys whispered it but his heart shatter at the pathetic tone. He turned around slowly and closed the door behind him.

When he entered the room Francis was there looking worried. Arthur ignored him and collapsed into the bed and burst into tears. Francis touched his back lightly but Arthur smacked his hand away. He didn't deserve his comfort. He fell asleep like that, curled up in a ball, tears streaming down his face.


	2. The Parasite Takes Over

**Gosh this one is pretty short. I'm sorry I really tried to make it longer and the ending is rushed. But hey at least I updated. The chapters are probably going to start getting longer from here.**

**Chapter 2: The Parasite Takes Over**

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><p>Francis awoke the next morning feeling dead on the inside. Arthur was getting worse and there was hardly anything any of them could do for him. He looked over at his slumbering husband and gave a mirthless sigh. He forced himself out of bed, knowing that he had to make breakfast for the kids who would soon be waking. The stairs, usually a short thing, seemed to take hours to get down and it quickly hit the Frenchman that his husband's mental health was taking a significant toll on him as well. Through quiet, sideline observation it came to his attention that it was taking an even greater toll on his children, and suddenly, but not surprisingly, he felt to need to help them with every fibre of his being, but the task would be great, possibly too great, for him to do on his own. He would need assistance from a trained professional, but the only trained professional, that he trusted, of course, was his husband, who couldn't even help himself at this point.<p>

The kitchen loomed in front of him before he was aware of it and found himself standing in the middle of the room, looking thoroughly confused. Yes, he was indeed aware that he was in the kitchen, but he couldn't quite recall why he was in the kitchen, and at such an hour in the morning, for the sun had yet to rise. He soon remembered that he had come to prepare breakfast, but there was no logic behind the decision, seeing as it was three in the morning and he was hardly in any mood to make a big breakfast like he enjoyed doing on any other day. A sigh escaped his chapped lips and the Frenchman decided that the action of making breakfast would not only satisfy his children, though at this point even that was in question, but he was sure, or at least he hoped, that his making of breakfast would help his husband feel better, even if it would be for a short while.

The bowls and ingredients soon took up most of the counter space as he prepared the rest of the needed supplies, part of him thought it was entirely unnecessary to add them but another told him that Alfred and Jaune would quite enjoy it, so he retrieved the raspberries and resolved to put them in the pancakes. He set the raspberries on the counter and began the slow process of making the pancake batter and making the pancakes. When he finished there was an entire plate of pancakes, and the enticing aroma of pancakes wafting in the room. The clock read five o'clock by the time he finished. The smell soon brought Jaune down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Good morning, angel." Francis greeted his youngest son with a hair ruffle.

"Did you make raspberry pancakes?" Jaune asked groggily, a yawn slipping out of his mouth. Francis resisted the urge to smile and ruffle Jaune's hair and gave a nod, leading him to the table and assuring he was safely seated before making a plate of food for him. "Mama up?" Jaune sounded half asleep, as he also appeared.

"Non, not yet." Francis planted a soft kiss on the boy's head and glanced towards the stairs, wondering when Arthur would finally wake up and join them for breakfast. He did acknowledge that Arthur needed his rest, seeing as he was still recovering from a traumatic event, but an important step is being around those that love and care about you. He bit his lip, debating on whether or not he should go wake him up or whether he should let him sleep in. Just as he was coming to a final decision, Matthew came down the stairs fully dressed, and looked ready to go out. Francis narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going?"

He received nothing more than a simple reply of, "Out." The front door slammed behind the blonde and Francis gave a sigh, normally he would of put up a fight and made him stay but he was too worn out to even attempt to make Matthew stay. He turned back to Jaune who was finishing up his pancakes.

"What's wrong?" Jaune set down his food and looked at the Frenchman with a look of concern. Francis shook his head and the topic was dropped.

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><p>By mid-afternoon Arthur had yet to wake, which left Francis extremely worried. Half of him was convinced that Arthur was tired while the other half told him something was wrong and he should probably call his in-laws. He refrained from doing so, but promised himself that if Arthur didn't awake soon, he would call his brother-in-law and see if there was anything he could do for him. "Hey dad, where's mom?" Victoria was standing in the doorway, eyebrow cocked and confused frown on her face.<p>

"Still asleep, do you need something?" Francis looked back down at his book and rubbed his eyes.

"No, no, I was just wondering." Victoria gave a small hum before turning on her heel and walking back up the stairs. Francis sighed and looked at the clock. It was getting late. He decided to get up and go check on Arthur, and then come to a conclusion on whether or not he should call Patrick or Alistair. He took the stairs two steps at a time, and it came to his realization that he was more worried than he previously thought. The door to his and Arthur's bedroom came into view and he practically sprinted to the room and looked in,

Arthur was still in the same exact position that he fell asleep in, which was strange to the Frenchman because Arthur moved around _a lot _in his sleep. "Jett!" Francis took a seat on his side of the bed, biting his lip and keeping a close eye on his slumbering husband.

"Yeah?" Jett poked his head in, looking mildly concerned.

"Go call Alistair." Jett gave a nod and he heard his footsteps echo down the stairs.

Arthur remained still and the only movement was his even breathing. Francis ran a hand through his hair and gave a heavy sigh. He was going to grey if Arthur kept scaring him like this.

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><p>What felt like hours later Alistair came into the room and demanding what the problem was. "This better be fucking serious, Francis." The Scot hissed.<p>

"He hasn't woken up." Francis didn't look in the direction of the Scot, he kept his eyes glued on the sleeping Englishman, trying to mask his concern, but failing miserably. Alistair came over to the bed and tried to shake the younger man awake but to no avail.

"Go fill the tub up with cold water." Francis wasted no time. He rushed to the bathroom and plugged the drain. The cold water began filling up the tub. He turned it off as Alistair came in, carrying Arthur, who lay limp in his arms. Alistair muttered something under his breath and dropped Arthur into the cold, unforgiving water. He still didn't stir. "Call an ambulance."

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><p>Christen rode in the ambulance with Arthur, much to Alistair's dismay. The rest of the family had to drive to the hospital where they met up with Patrick, Caoimhe, and Dylan, all of whom were both concerned and angry, taking everything out on Francis. Alistair sat quietly on the sidelines, watching, his green eyes hard and cold. Patrick stopped yelling at him and looked around the room. "Where'd Matthew go?" Francis' gaze snapped to the empty the seat and he felt a surge of panic rush through his veins.<p>

Caoimhe left her seat and took a seat next to the distraught Alfred, whispering words of comfort. Francis felt guilty that it wasn't him but he felt that Matthew was of higher priority. Francis made his way to the nearest bathroom which was a single person bathroom. He knocked lightly on the door. "Go away." He heard his son grumble from inside the bathroom.

"Matthew, it's me," Francis spoke softly, not wanting Matthew to think he was in trouble, "Unlock the door, please." He heard a click and opened the door. Matthew was sitting next to the door, face buried in his knees and arms wrapped protectively around his knees. He took a seat next to Matthew. "Are you alright?" Matthew shook his head, not raising his head. "He's going to be fine Matthew." Francis lightly placed a hand on the boy's back. "Come on out when you're ready." He stood up fingers lingering for a moment and left the bathroom.

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><p>It was another hour before a doctor came out, biting his lip. Patrick glared at him, and Francis knew damn well that if the doctor tried to sugacoat it, or not tell the whole truth, he'd punch his teeth out. His glare settled though when he saw the doctor. "Daniel, what's going on?" The Hungarian sighed.<p>

"It's probably not what you were thinking, but it's probably worse than what you were thinking." All sorts of possibilities raced through the Frenchman's mind. "I need you guys to believe me, okay?" They all nodded, save for Alfred who had fallen asleep. "He's been possessed, well a better term would be taken over, by a demon."


	3. How Could This Get Any Worse?

_I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is. I promise chapters will start getting longer as the story progresses. _

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><p><strong>Daniel - Nyo!Hungary<strong>

Caoimhe - Northern Ireland

Alistair - Scotland

Victoria - Seychelles

Alfred - America

Matthew - Canada

Jett - Australia

Christen - New Zealand

Ruby - Wy

Jaune - Hutt River

Francis - France

Patrick - Ireland

Dylan - Wales

Jennifer - Nyo!Australia

Kristia - Nyo!New Zealand

Amelia - Nyo!America

Madeline - Nyo!Canada

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><p>Victoria wasn't sure how to feel about the situation. On one hand she didn't want to believe what Daniel was spewing, it made no sense, but on the other hand it was the option that made most sense. But it was ludicrous, even if demons did exist, which they don't, why would they go after her mother of all people? None of it was adding up. There was no logic behind the assumption that her mother was possessed. "The probability of death is always there." She heard Daniel say. Her whole world froze. Not only was her mother possessed but he could die too. This was too much for her to take in, she was getting frustrated and she still had so many questions to ask, but she knew her place and kept her mouth shut. "The easiest way to save someone from this is to send someone their close to into their dream projections and pull them out."<p>

An immediate reply came from her Uncle Patrick. "I'll go." Daniel gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Patrick, I'd love to but while Arthur is close to you there are eight other people that he'd much closer to," Daniel sounded apologetic, "but we aren't permitted to send children in because the risk of death is too great so in this case, I'm going to say our best candidate is Francis." Every looked at him imploringly.

"I'll do it." Her father gave nod as if to further confirm.

"You'll have to sign a waiver," Daniel explained, "You're at just as much a risk of dying as Arthur so we aren't allowed to be responsible for your death because, not only was it your choice, we can't really control what goes on." Francis nodded.

This was way too much. Now she was not only at risk of losing her mother she could lose her father, too? No, she couldn't do it. The prospect of being an orphan wasn't something she had ever thought of or something that she wanted to think about, but with the underlying possibility there, she couldn't help but think about it. She noticed Matthew stiffen next to her and she wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug and tell him it would be alright, but she refused to give her little brother false hope, especially with the situation they were in.

"We'll get you set up tomorrow." And with that they were asked to leave the hospital, when all Victoria wanted to do was at least see her mother one last time.

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><p>The ride home was silent. No one dared speak a word and no dared express their fears of losing their parents. Francis, for the duration of the night, refused to speak about it, even when Matthew did ask about.<p>

Victoria stared at the black void above her, pondering all the possibilities. The one that weighed most heavily on her mind was losing her parents, which was something she didn't want. She wouldn't be able to get by without them there, and she couldn't even begin to imagine life without them, but she found her thoughts drifting in that direction. All sorts of theoretical scenarios played out in her mind and almost all of them ended with someone's death.

A shiver ran down her spine and she pushed the thoughts from her head and closed her eyes, resolving to at least try sleeping

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><p>Morning came and filled Victoria with dread. Knowing that today was the day her father was putting himself willingly into a dangerous situation scared her more than any monster under the goddamn bed. It appeared she was the last join her siblings in the kitchen. It was dead silent. Everyone sat in their usual seats and Victoria found it extremely hard to ignore the empty seat at the table. No words were exchanged, nor were sympathies. She supposed it was because they were all in denial, refusing to believe that it was even a remote possibility that they could lose their parents. But the possibility was there, they could, and likely would lose both of them and there was nothing that could be said or done to change that.<p>

They heard a door open from further within the house and their father joined them in the kitchen with a smile on his face. Jaune was the first to crack, much to everyone's shock. It was in that moment that Victoria remembered just how young he was and he broke knowing that there was nothing any of them could do. Francis was the first to react, pulling Jaune into a hug. "It's okay, Jaune, it's okay." Jaune fell silent.

"But you aren't going to be, are you?" The room fell dead quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Francis held him tighter, an expression of pain forming on his face.

"I'm going to be fine, I'm not leaving you guys here alone."

"And what if you do?" It was Jett who asked the question this time.

"You'll live with your aunts and uncles." His answer was simple and to the point, but the fact that he had already thought about in advance made her sick. He knew there was a possibility that he wasn't going to come back. Victoria cast her gaze downwards.

The phone rang and it was like her whole world stood still. This was a call that could change their lives forever, their father could be about to put himself into a position of certain death, or have it delayed. They all silently held their breaths, praying for the latter.

They couldn't hear the conversation and she assumed that her father did that on purpose. He set down the phone and turned towards them giving a small smile. "This afternoon." They all released their breaths with a relieved sighs.

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><p>Time was such a cruel thing, Victoria decided. It would never slow or pity any human being. Afternoon had come much too fast for the family of eight and they were soon off the the hospital so that their father could attempt, and most likely fail, to save their dear mother who had fallen into the evil clutches of a parasitic demon. The air was tense in the waiting room as the waited for their father to be called back.<p>

Daniel came out much too soon and the family had to exchange their, what they believed to be, last goodbyes. All seven of them watched their father until he disappeared down a different hallway out of their line of vision. The siblings fell silent, and no one moved a muscle. Victoria couldn't read minds but she was fairly certain that they were all silently praying that their dad would come back. After all, losing one parent is better than losing two.

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><p>After sitting in the waiting room for another fifteen minutes, Alistair came and picked them up from the hospital. He said nothing, which Victoria would later say was a probably a good thing. They were greeted at their home by Aunt Caoimhe and Uncle Dylan, who would be staying at their house, along with Uncle Alistair, until their parents came home, but there was an unspoken 'if' in their voices.<p>

The seven siblings answered every question shot at them with nods or curt answers which soon made their cousins leave them alone. Amelia was the one that backed off last, but only after getting snapped at by Jett, who had to be held back by Jennifer. Kristia was the one who didn't ask them questions. In fact, she made them dinner and put them to bed without asking any questions or saying anything really. No one said it, but everyone was grateful for it.

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><p>The sun had risen above the horizon before Victoria left her room and joined her family downstairs. She, much like her brother's, skipped breakfast and, instead, opted to go to the hospital to see how things were going with their parents. She had to admit, she found it rather odd that Jaune and Ruby stayed behind, but she assumed that their aunt wouldn't let them go.<p>

Uncle Patrick was the one who drove them to the hospital, and he seemed the most nervous out of the five of them. Victoria couldn't blame him though, that was his little brother who was practically lying on his death bed. She couldn't even imagine what she would do if that was one of her little brother's. She shook away that thought and and shot a glance over at her little brother's. She felt selfish for feeling relieved that her brother's were alright while her uncle's was close to death. Granted that was not only Uncle Patrick's brother, it was also her mother.

The car pulled into the hospital parking lot and came to a stop. "Let's go."


End file.
